Under the Gun
by We Love Mobward Contest
Summary: Betrayed by one of his own and double-crossed by a rival, Carlisle Cullen sends his nephew, Edward 'The Gun' Cullen to steal back what's theirs and send a message to Czech mafia boss Marcus Drašković. Meeting a sweet innocent was never part of the plan.


**Story Title:** Under The Gun

 **Summary:** Betrayed by one of his own and double-crossed by a rival, Carlisle Cullen sends his nephew, Edward 'The Gun' Cullen to steal back what's theirs and send a message to Czech mafia boss Marcus Drašković. Meeting a sweet innocent was never part of the plan.

 **Pairing:** Edward/ Bella

 **Rating:** R

 **Word count:** 9941

 **Disclaimer:** All things Twilight belong solely to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.

 _ **Under the Gun**_

"Hello, Sam."

The tall, dark man spun around to confront the voice of his guilt. Icy fear slithered down his spine as his one-time friend step from the shadows.

"Edward Cullen, wh—what are you doing in Prague?" Sam sputtered as he took a step back.

"I think we can dispense with the pretense, Sam. We lost a crew of good men, yet here you stand." Cullen's eyes hardened to stone as he cocked his head. "Interesting."

Sam took another step back and bumped into the hard chest of one of Cullen's goons who began patting him down, removing the gun tucked in his belt.

"I think we need to get reacquainted, Sam. From what I understand, you've been busy making new friends." Cullen threw his arm over the shoulder of his former trusted soldier and continued. "Well now, any friend of yours will surely be a friend of mine."

Sam winced as Cullen squeezed his shoulder. The large shadow fell in behind his boss and the traitor as the procession made their way to the Fiat Scudo waiting at the end of the street.

…

In the early morning haze, no one noticed the petite brunette lingering in front of St. John of Nepomuk on the Charles Bridge. Isa looked longingly at the loving guard resting his hand on the head of a faithful dog. She reached out to touch the polished gold dog, feeling the kinship with the pup before moving her finger to reverently touch the face of the man standing in the place of protective love.

She sighed deeply and stepped back to touch the fallen saint and whispered the same prayerful wish like so many mornings before. _"že bych mohl mít místo—rodina znovu,_ " she breathed. (That I might have place—family again.)

…

Edward sat on a bench below the Charles Bridge as the sky lightened behind the shops flanking the bridge.

It had been a long night.

In an abandoned building on the outskirts of Prague, Edward had watched Jared and Paul tag team Sam Uley.

As the birds began to chatter in the tree over his bench, Edward leaned his elbows on his knees and ran his slender fingers through his hair.

Friends since middle school, Edward had seen Sam safely into the organization, had vouched for him.

He sighed as he reached into his pocket, uploaded the picture of proof, and forced his hand to cease its trembling.

"Ah, fuck, Sam," he murmured and closed his eyes as memories of the night rolled over him.

 _After one more punch to the gut, Sam vomited down the front of his torn and bloody shirt, and Cullen motioned for the men to step back._

" _No more—let me talk—fuck—Edward—just let me talk!" Sam wheezed and gagged._

 _Cullen sat and leaned his elbows on his knees bringing his mouth close to the sobbing man's ear._

" _Talk."_

 _Sam jumped at his nearness and began taking deep breaths to find his courage._

 _In broken speech interrupted by retching, Sam told how Felix had contacted him and had offered him money and position on his crew to let the deal go down Felix's way. What were a few diamonds? Carlisle was never going to let him advance beyond where he was in the organization. Here, he had thought he'd be as big as Edward. He swore he had no idea Felix would execute the men._

 _Cullen had stood and paced as Sam spewed forth his own demise. He stopped mid-step as Sam stopped speaking._

" _One remains, Edward—Seth." Sam's hope for redemption flickered and died as Cullen pulled his gun and rested it against his thigh._

" _Where is he?"_

" _Pankrac," Sam said._

" _Prison?!"_

 _Sam flinched at Cullen's fury._

" _Felix needed a fall guy to distract the police."_

 _Cullen's hand tightened on the grip and nodded grimly._

" _We're done here, Sam."_

 _Sam slumped in his seat._

 _Cullen stepped toward him. "Who am I, Sam Uley?"_

 _Sam looked into his eyes and sat up straighter. "You're The Gun, Edward."_

" _For your crimes against the oaths you made to the Cullen Organization, is this action justified?" Cullen asked as he checked the suppressor and released the safety._

 _Sam swallowed thickly and rasped, "Yes."_

 _Cullen lifted the extended barrel to Sam's head. "Go with God, Samuel Uley."_

Edward shook his head against the memory and attached a text to the picture before hitting send.

 **Done-small rabbit snared**

He deleted the message and returned his phone to his pocket as he began walking across the bridge to Hotel Bishop's House. He kept his eyes straight forward as he ran the gauntlet under the watchful eyes of the saints. When he came to The Lamentation of the Christ, he looked into the face of a sorrowful Mary Magdalene.

Who would cry for him when his time came? He had no women who would grieve for him, no mother, no sister, no friend or lover.

He touched Mary Magdalene's hem. "Pray for me, a sinner, Maggie," he whispered. With a sniff, he shoved his hands deep into his pockets and blended into the current of people flowing past the holy witnesses.

…

Late to work, Isa scurried through the staff locker room, avoiding eye contact with the floor manager as she made her way to her post at the reception desk of Hotel Bishop's House. With sunbeams slanting through the glass doors, she took her first sip of coffee in the quiet stillness of the early morning lobby.

Isa looked up as the front doors slid open, and froze with her cup midway to her mouth as broad shoulders and mussed auburn hair sauntered in with keen, emerald eyes darting to all exits.

This man looks trained to managed trouble, she thought and lowered her coffee to the counter. As he approached, she noticed black ink peeking out from his collar and cuffs of his black cashmere coat.

"Dobré den, pane, jak vám mohu pomoci? _" (Good morning, sir, how may I assist you?)_

Sharp, discerning eyes locked on her, and her breath caught.

He rested his hands flat on the desk as he leaned in. "I'm checking my messages—zprávy," he said with a rich, smoky voice.

"American?"

He gave her a short nod. "You?"

"No, expat-Canadian," she said.

"How long you been here?"

She cocked her head to determine if he really wanted her life story and he lifted one eyebrow expectantly.

She gave him a shy smile. "About four years. Prague is a beautiful city."

"It is at that," he said with a glance out the window.

While he was distracted, she tried not to ogle the black ink decorating his hands. There was a spider web over a knuckle on his left hand and barbed wire running a piercing circuit around his wrist.

She pulled herself away from his art and blushed at the amused twinkle in his hawk-like eyes.

She gave a little shrug, "Your work is pretty," she said as she fiddled with the mouse of her computer.

"That's not pretty. That's hard living."

Her gaze shot up to a cold stare and she swallowed thickly before nodding. "I stand corrected," she murmured as she typed on her keyboard.

His hand ran along hers stilling her movement. "Forgive me; I'm travel weary. I'm glad you like my ink. Most women get the wrong idea."

"Wrong idea?" she asked quietly.

He pulled his hand back to his side of the desk. "Yeah, they think it would be fun to flirt with the devil, to ride a bad boy."

"Oh." She peeked through her eyelashes to see him grinning at her discomfort.

She straightened. "What name and room number, sir?"

"Black, Jacob Black, room 17."

"Sedmnáct," she murmured as she typed. "Yes, sir, I have one message." Will you be joining us for breakfast?" she asked as she motioned to the buffet on the far side of the lobby.

"No, but thank you …"

"Isa, Isabella," she said and felt her neck heat as he took the envelope while his fingers trailed over her hand.

"Well, Isa," he said with a wolfish grin, "I hope your day is as sweet as you've already made mine."

She smiled shyly, "Thank you, Mr. Black."

With a wistful grin, he rapped the counter with his knuckles and made his way to the lift. Waiting for the doors to close, he willed her to look up, turn her attention to him. As the doors closed, she caught his eye and smiled. This little beauty was nothing more than a warm curvy distraction. He rubbed his stinging eyes. Sleep—he needed sleep not a little bombshell with haunting, dark doe eyes.

A vibration had him pull his phone from his pocket. He read the text and laid his head back against the wall of the lift.

 **Cut off the branch.**

 **Affirmative** he texted back and deleted the messages as the door to the lift opened to his floor.

…

His phone dancing on his nightstand had him flinging back bedclothes and reaching to silence it.

 _Men love darkness rather than light because their deeds are evil_ , he thought as he rubbed his face in the dark room.

With a groan, Edward threw his legs over the edge of the bed. Running his hands through his thick, russet hair, he stood and straightened, causing his back to crack.

"Fuckin' hell," he moaned.

He stretched his arms over his head as he walked toward the bathroom and felt each protest of his tight muscles. As he stepped under the hot spray, his blissful groan echoed off the tiled walls.

…

Not willing to risk being seen, Cullen slipped out the employees' entrance which spilled out onto a back alley. Dressed in black, he blended into the shadows of the night. His message from Aro weighed heavily in his pocket as he maneuvered through back streets to the rendezvous.

 _Delighted to know The Gun is visiting our fair city—AS_

What was that old man playing at? Two Balkan organizations fought for dominance over Prague. The Cullens didn't have a beef with Aro Šarić or his family, but Marcus Drašković and his son, Felix were another matter. Carlisle's text marked Felix as a dead man walking—a declaration of war against the Drašković family.

He rounded the corner of the wall that divided the old and new parts of the city and saw his men leaning against the van.

The men straightened as he approached.

"Job done?" he asked.

Paul spoke up first. "Clean and thorough, sir."

"Good. We have new orders. Let's get out of this wind.

…

Jared drove through the darkened back streets of old Prague as Cullen and Paul ran through the plan again, checking their weapons and supplies as they spoke.

"We have one chance at surprise. Does anyone have any questions?" Cullen asked as he clicked the safety on his Walther p22 before sliding it into its holster.

"No sir, we're ready to issue some payback," Paul said as he sheathed his knife in his boot.

Jared parked behind a wall of overgrown bushes, and Cullen's voice broke the silence.

"Tonight, we send the message to Marcus Drašković. No one disrespects our house."

Cullen led the men behind the building. Jared stepped forward to pick the locks, and the soldiers followed their boss through the door.

The group moved past the cavernous room of the Drašković chop-shop.

At Cullen's signal, Jared and Paul moved in opposite directions to cover him. A movement on the staircase along the wall had Cullen chasing Felix to an office. He shot the lock off the door in time to see Felix slam a safe door and dive behind a massive desk.

Cullen felt a searing heat rip through his left arm before he registered hearing the gunfire. Furious, Cullen charged and shot Felix's right shoulder.

As Felix's gun clattered to the floor, Cullen dragged him from behind the desk and roared, "ON YOUR KNEES!"

Felix growled as he dropped to his knees. "You're not getting out of here alive, _Zbraň_. (Gun) This building will be swarming with the Drašković any minute now," Felix spat with a twisted laugh.

"Well you'll lead the way, motherfucker," Cullen said as he placed the gun to Felix's head and pulled the trigger.

Cullen patted him down, pocketing his knife and gun as the floor below erupted with the noise of gunfire and men's shouts.

Seeing that the safe door was cracked, he opened it to find a satchel with the stolen diamonds and a keyring of flash drives. He grabbed it and slipped downstairs. Silence and the bodies of Drašković men greeted him at the bottom of the stairs. Jared and Paul had done a good job.

He rounded the wall to find Viktor Dobransky waiting with his gun leveled at Cullen's chest and the bodies of Paul and Jared lying at his feet.

"Welcome back, _Zbraň."_

…

After a double shift, Isa moved through the staff locker room on heavy limbs.

She stepped into the chilled, early morning air and breathed a sigh of relief. In another hour the oncoming sunrise would usher in a new day.

As she moved past a dumpster, a shuffling movement sent her heart racing.

The handsome man from the morning moved from the shadows.

"Mr. Black? You scared me," she said as she took a step back.

As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she saw he was quite disheveled.

"What happened?"

"I—I met with pickpockets obviously having a bad day," he said with a weak smile.

"I'm so sorry," she said and stepped closer. "Let me help you to your room."

Edward hated to involve this sweet innocent, but with the blood loss, he was unsure he would make it another step. He had been leaning against the tree debating that very fact.

"That would be very kind," he relented.

She wrapped his arm around her shoulder and helped him into the building and onto the staff elevator. In the light of the lift, she saw his blood soaked sleeve and the bruising and blood on the side of his face.

"This is more than a mere mugging," she said as he sagged against the wall.

"Yes, but that's more than you need to know."

She nodded. She didn't need trouble. "I'll get you to your room, Mr. Black."

"Thank you, Isa." His alias on her lips disturbed him, and he inwardly grimaced as the words spilled out, "My name is Edward Cullen. Please call me Edward."

Leaning against the adjacent wall, she cocked her head. "You're a dangerous man."

He lifted his pounding head. "Yes—yes I am, Isa."

She swallowed thickly but held his eyes.

Nothing more was said as they made their way to his room.

As she flipped the switch that illuminated the lamp near the bed, Edward stumbled and stood swaying as he reached out and brushed her hair back from her face. "Thank you, love, I'll be fine now," he said with a grimace of pain.

This was going to end badly, she thought. But it felt good to be needed, and from the soft tone of his voice, maybe even wanted. She cursed her stupid girly heart.

"I'll help you get settled and cleaned up Mr. Bl—Edward," she murmured.

She led him to sit on the bed, and he hesitated to lifted his arm to unbutton his shirt.

"May I help you?"

He nodded, and as she kneeled and bent her head to her task, he couldn't help but rest his hand on the back of her head. She looked up, and he ran his thumb tenderly over her cheek.

"You're a beautiful woman, Isa."

She blushed under his thumb's caress and stood to pull his shirt from his pants.

He stood to make it easier and as the shirt peeled away it revealed scars and tattoos patterned over a powerful, well-muscled frame.

"Oh, my …" she breathed.

He stood swaying as her eyes raked over him. He had a sleeve of black Celtic designs starting with the barbed wire that circled his right wrist and running the length of his arm, over his shoulder and ending with an iron vine with withered leaves wandering into his hairline.

If that wasn't impressive enough, he had a skull with a fedora rakishly pulled low over one eye in the center of his chest with a smoking gun hovering near.

"You want to flirt with the devil, Isa?"

Her eyes shot up to cold emerald eyes and felt a chill run up her spine as her body heated under his piercing gaze.

"I told you before, E—Edward, I think your work is pretty," she said as she helped him to sit.

He smiled at her bravado and breathed in the citrus smell of her shampoo. "That you did, love."

"Your wound on your arm is bleeding." She grabbed his shirt to staunch the blood flow.

"Get the bag from the floor of my closet, towels and warm water. You can use the ice bucket.

As she rushed to gather supplies, he closed his eyes and tried to ignore the waves of nausea.

She came to kneel before him. "Tell me what to do." The worry in her voice pierced him to the core, to have someone to care, a female someone. He swallowed thickly.

"Open the bag for me and drape a towel under the wound. We don't want to have to explain the blood to your boss." She gave him a weak smile, and they set to work cleaning and bandaging the through and through gunshot wound.

As she cleaned his face, she asked, "What happened here?"

"Let's just say a Ukrainian gorilla with dreadlocks and bad breath drug me along a wall before I could get a clean shot.

She stilled, and he realized what he'd said.

"Sorry, love, Viktor was not a nice person," he said.

She stopped cleaning his ear and rested her hands on his thigh before looking into his eyes. "I'm glad you stopped him from hurting you."

His eyebrows shot to his hairline as she continued gently cleaning the caked blood from his ear and a blush bloomed over her chest and cheeks.

…

"When I take this I'm going to get pretty groggy," Edward said as he popped the two pain relievers into his mouth.

She knew the sensible thing to do was to go.

"I'd like to stay for a bit and make sure you're sleeping soundly."

He knew he needed to send her away.

"You look done in yourself. Want to stretch out here?"

She nodded, nervous but relieved. _Dumb girl_.

He smiled while he mentally kicked himself. _Selfish bastard_.

He stood and removed his wallet and phone, dropping them onto the nightstand, and placed his gun under his pillow after checking the safety. He slid under the cool sheets with a groan and watched Isa slip off her shoes and bulky sweater leaving a camisole.

Seeing his inability to turn off the light with his left arm, she reached across, and as the room fell into darkness, she felt his inked right arm wrap around her keeping her close to his side.

He felt her mold her warm curves against him and felt a deep peace carry him away.

"Stay with me," he murmured as the room lightened with the new day.

…

His phone dancing on the nightstand had Isa reaching across him to still it.

She looked at the handsome but dangerous man next to her and couldn't help the corners of her mouth lifting. She felt his forehead. No fever, that was good.

Within seconds it began dancing again.

"Shit," Edward groaned. "Get the phone and text; **Done. Last man standing. Friendless.** "

Flustered, she quickly did as he said with shaking hands.

He smiled as she dropped the phone on his lap and he cupped his hand around the back of her head pulling her toward him. He kissed her cheek and whispered, "Good morning, love."

Her breath tickled his neck as she whispered, "Good morning, Edward."

She looked out the window as he checked the time on his phone.

"It's after three. You must be starving," he murmured.

She nodded and slid out of bed to head to the bathroom as his phone vibrated on his lap.

 **Two times around the mulberry bush for your two monkeys. Regards on the hour.**

He typed back, **Affirmative** and deleted the messages.

Two days to tread water before Emmett and Jasper got there. I can do that; he thought as the bathroom door opened.

Isa returned with a washed face, and her hair pulled back into a neat ponytail. As she reached for her sweater, Edward pushed to sit up straighter and winced.

"Do you have to work?"

"No, I don't work again until tomorrow morning."

He pulled the sheet folding it neatly over the blanket on his lap. "You need to get home to your family."

She smiled at his not so subtle probing. "No, I have no family left. I came to Prague to meet my grandmother and stayed to care for her until she passed away." She shrugged. "I had nothing to return to, so ..."

He frowned. "I see. Stay for breakfast, well, lunch? I'm sorry about your grandmother."

She gave him a more genuine smile and sat on the edge of the bed. "She was a wonderful woman."

He took a moment to take in the wonder of the woman before him. "I'm sure she was."

…

He gingerly pulled his shirt over his wrapped arm as his eyes searched the world below his window.

Isa had run down to the deli on the corner for sandwiches. She would be back any minute, but still, the uneasy feeling in his gut wouldn't dissipate. He had scars that taught the hard lesson of not listening to his instincts. The thought had him reaching for his gun.

He grabbed the bag from Felix's office and Isa's small duffle bag. He slipped the diamonds and flash drives into Isa's sensible shoes of her uniform and added some of his clothes and medical supplies in before dropping it next to the bed.

Isa's entrance found him pacing.

"Where the hell have you been?" he growled as he crossed the room in three steps.

"I'm sorry, there was a line," she said.

She smiled to herself as his hand ran down her hair, over her shoulders, along her arms to capture her hand. As he rested his forehead against hers and breathed in her shampoo, he took the bag from her hand.

"I'm sorry, I'm a little jumpy." He said and gave her hand one more squeeze before leading her to the table and setting out the sandwiches. "This looks good. I'm starved."

She nodded as she removed the pickle from hers.

The sound of heavy footsteps in the hall had Edward out of his seat and grabbing Isa's duffle bag as he pulled his gun from his holster.

"Grab the food and come to me," he yelled as he opened the window. "Now!" he threw over his shoulder.

A squeak, a rustling of paper, and she was at his side.

"Run for the alley and hide behind the third dumpster. I'm right behind you." He kissed her forehead and nudged her out the window. "Go."

The door began to shake as Edward threw the bag's strap over his head and flipped the safety off of his gun. He was out the window as the door burst open and two thick-necked goons burst into the room. Edward saw Isa disappear down the alley as he jumped over the fire escape railing, rolling on his bad arm as a shot sounded from the window.

He tossed the bag to his back and ran. At the third dumpster, he found a crying, furious Isa. Good, he thought, anger is always better than fear. He grabbed her hand and tugged. "Come."

She ran close behind him as they made their way through back alleys. At first, they heard menacing footfall behind them, but after a few more twists and turns they were alone.

He slowed them to a walk, and behind a stand of trees, he pulled her to a stop. She immediately swung to hit his right shoulder with all of her might.

He rocked back and laughed.

"You tell me what is going on right this minute. Who the hell are you? Stop laughing and start talking you fuckin' sonofabitch," she said with another punch to his shoulder.

He grabbed her hand and held her wrist until she stopped struggling and lifted it to kiss her knuckles.

"You're bleeding again," she whispered as her body swayed toward him.

He dropped the bag and motioned for her to sit on it as he sat next to her and leaned against a Spruce tree, pulling her closer.

"Let's eat, and I'll talk."

She threw the crumpled bag at him.

He grinned and pulled out what was left of their meal, spreading the pieces of sandwiches on the wrapper.

"First lesson of being on the lam is you eat what and when you can. You never know when the next meal will come," he said.

"On the lam—is that what we are98?"

She looked panicked. A slender finger pushed a bite of sandwich toward her, and he smiled when she took it.

"I'm Edward Anthony Cullen, nephew to Carlisle Cullen head of the Cullen family of Chicago."

"Cullen … I know that name. Um … something about a car wreck and a trial," she said.

He hung his head and rolled a piece of cheese between dexterous fingers.

"That was my father, Ed Senior. About ten years ago, he and I were reallocating a rival's assets, and they got the drop on us and killed him. Evidence from the theft came back to me, and I got ten years." He shrugged. "I served five."

He popped the cheese into his mouth and held out his hand. "The dice's four outer dots represent the walls and the center dot represents the prisoner." He flexed his knuckle. "The cobweb signifies the slow passing of time." He shrugged again and placed meat between her two discarded pickles and took a bite.

Edward nudged her hand, and she took a bite.

"So you're some kinda mafia wiseguy?" she asked.

He smiled at her Hollywood reference. "I come from a long line of entrepreneurs who deal in acquisitions." He gave her a sheepish grin. "We might run afoul of the law from time to time." He popped a piece of bread into his mouth. "Eat, Bella," he said as he pushed meat and cheese toward her.

She picked up bread and meat and took a delicate bite. "Why are you here in Prague?"

"The Drašković family double-crossed us, stole 2.5 million dollars in merchandise, and executed four of our men. Last night I settled the score but lost two more men. Now I'm waiting for my people to help me exit."

She sat for a long time rolling a wilted piece of lettuce between her fingers. Coming to a decision, she threw the wad of lettuce in the grass.

"I can't go home, can I?" she asked.

"No, I'm sorry; I think they followed you from the deli. They know what you look like and that you're with me. They'll be watching the hotel, and possibly your flat."

She nodded. "How long before help arrives?"

He was proud of how well she was handling the situation. Without weighing his actions, he leaned over their picnic and pressed his lips to hers.

She blushed and picked a blade of grass. "Answer my question, please."

He ran his knuckle down her heated cheek. "Two days."

She nodded and held out her hand. "Let me make a call. _I know a guy_."

He laughed at her cliché wiseguy phrase, but pulled his phone and scooted closer to hear the conversation.

A deep voice picked up, " _Kdo je to_?" ("Who is this?") eliciting a frown from Edward.

" _Dobrý den, Milo, to je Isa."_ ("Hey, Milo, this is Isa.")

" _Hej,_ _krásná, kde jsi byl?_ _Byl jsem vás chybí."_ ("Hey Beautiful, where have you been? I've been missing you.") The oily tone of the man's voice had Edward sitting up and glaring.

Isa laughed and switched to English. "Ah, Milo, I've missed you too. I have a problem. I need a place to stay tonight."

"Mmmm, I'd love to have you warm my bed, baby," Milo cooed as Edward reached for the phone, and Isa angled away.

"Uh—tempting Milo, but I need a place in town for my friend and me for the night. I was thinking of the cellar of _Hospoda_."

"You're not in any trouble are you, baby? I'll take care of you."

"That's so sweet. No, my flat flooded, broken pipe. The pub would be fine for tonight."

He breathed heavily into the phone. "Sure, Isa, the key is in the same spot. The staff will come in around one."

"Thanks, Milo, you're the best," she gushed.

"You'll owe me a date, Isa. I'm talking a dress and heels."

"I'd like that, Milo," she purred and ended the call.

Edward snatched the phone from her hand.

"Who the hell is that?"

She gave him a pleased grin. "Jealous?"

"Yes, yes, I think I might be. Answer me."

"He's my friend. When I was taking care of my grandmother, I worked at his pub. We dated a bit, but …" she leaned closer and whispered, "He's an awful kisser." She shuddered and added, "All wet and sloppy."

He laughed and pulled her toward him, capturing her lips with something to prove. Edward's hand ran up her back and into her hair as she melted against him. He growled against her lips as her delicate tongue ran along his lower lip, asking, pleading.

He pulled her onto his lap as he opened to her. It thrilled her to have his inked arm wrapped around her, and she whimpered as he took over the kiss.

Pulling back and burying his face in her neck, he groaned as he fisted her hair. "God, Bella baby."

He felt her grin against his cheek.

She giggled and smoothed his hair from his forehead. "That's some good kissin'."

He grinned at her and gave her one more peck.

With a sigh, he looked around. "We should go, Bella."

She stood and brushed off her bottom. "Bella?"

He shrugged as he grabbed the bag to throw it over his shoulder. "Isabella—beautiful—Bella."

She smiled, pleased. "Okay."

He grabbed her hand. "Lead the way, Bella-mine."

…

The cellar was cold but dry and safe. Edward checked the locks again before looking around. Seeing flattened boxes leaning against the wall, he spread them along the floor and motioned for her to join him. Leaning against the wall, he set his gun next to him before pulling her into his side, wrapping her cloak over them, and tucking it snug beneath her chin and shoulder.

She wiggled closer to his warmth, and he wrapped his arms tighter around her small frame. Resting his cheek on her head, he closed his weary eyes. Wrapped in warm, secure silence, he began to drift.

"Do you believe in magic?" she whispered.

His eyes popped open with a frown, "No," and closed again before adding, "Magic is man's way of explaining the supernatural, but I've seen enough death to know what life is. It's the spark of the Spirit. Without that, we're all just decomposing meat."

He felt her stiffen at his words, reminding him once again that she was not of his world.

She pulled her knees up and angled them over his lap as she turned to rest her cheek on his shoulder. Draping her arm over his abs, she whispering, "You've seen a lot of death?"

He let go a frustrated huff and rubbed his lips gently along her hairline. "Yes. I am known as The Gun, and I've earned the name."

He felt her cool hand rest on his cheek and squeezed his eyes shut. He decided to pull back the veil in hopes she would run from him because it was becoming painfully clear he couldn't walk away from her.

"I'm a closer, an executioner of made-men. I'm the one they bring in to end negotiations. I'm the right-hand of Death." He ran his palm over her soft hair and added, "I am not good, Isa, and I am past redemption."

He felt her shaking, and his heart caught in his throat. She needed to know. She needed to see.

When her tears soaked through his shirt alarm flickered through him.

"I would never hurt _you_ , love," he added softly.

A primal wail escaped her, and she straddled him with her arms tight around his neck before he knew what hit him.

He began to rub her back soothingly as he whispered, "I would have liked to have been a better man for you, Bella-mine. You deserve a good man."

"Shhh, Edward." She sniffed. "I wish I could give you another life, a do-over."

He smiled wistfully and let his lips linger on her brow. "I'd love a do-over—with you."

They drifted into silence wrapped in each other.

As her breathing deepened, he murmured, "Sleep, my beautiful Bella-mine," as he pulled his coat snug around her.

He stayed awake deep into the morning hours, staring into a bleak future without her.

As the room began to lighten from the high set windows, Edward shifted under her.

"Bella, baby, wake up. I have a plan."

…

He told her his plan as they breakfasted on stale bread, cheese, and a Pilsner Urquell they had found in the cellar. He watched her face go from excited to concerned, from alarmed to furious and his heart died a little with the telling.

"You want us to separate." She said with disbelief.

"It's the only way. We have to get out of Prague, and they're gunning for me, not you. It will only be for a few hours. You will take the train to Dresden. My men will meet me, and we'll rendezvous with you the next day." He shrugged as if it were as easy as running errands on a Saturday.

"No, Edward, I won't go without you."

"Isa, I'm not asking you. I'm telling you this is how it's going down. I need to see you safe so I can finish this job." He wanted to reach out and comfort her but knew he'd never let her go.

She didn't speak as she began cleaning up their breakfast. Edward followed her lead and began to prepare to leave their safe little hole.

When he reached down for her bag, she placed her hand on his arm.

He looked into pleading eyes. "Promise me you'll come to me. Promise me you'll be there."

He straightened and took her hands in his, resting them on his chest, drawing her to him. "I promise, Bella-mine. I'll fight to get back to you if that's what you want."

She tiptoed to place a tender kiss on the corner of his mouth. "That's all I want, Edward, all I'll ever want. Promise me."

"I promise," he whispered as his thumb wiped a tear from the corner of her eye.

"Then kiss me."

He smiled softly as his hands reverently rested on either side of her face drawing her mouth to his. He told her everything in that kiss, his fears, and his faith in her — his love.

…

"You'll be safe once the train leaves the station. It's a scenic trip through farmland and forests," Edward said as he handed her the ticket.

"You'll be at the Vienna House tomorrow night?" She asked again.

"Yes, love, we'll order room service and take advantage of a very big bed." He grinned when she gave him a shy smile.

It would have to do—for now.

When they called her train for boarding, Edward took a deep breath and handed Isa the bag, now topped with magazines and candy bars.

She smiled bravely, but her tears ruined the effect.

He took her hand and slid his St. Dismas bracelet lovingly onto her wrist, bending and kissing it before pulling her into one last kiss.

He fingered the ring of flash drives in his pocket nervously. "The patron saint of thieves," he said as she studied it. She wrapped her hand around his neck, holding him to her. "Tomorrow," she whispered against his mouth as her fingers tightened in his hair.

He reached behind and drew her hands to his lips kissing her knuckles as his eyes searched for something to keep with him. "Tomorrow," he vowed.

He watched until the last of the train rounded the bend out of sight.

"That was so beautiful, _Zbraň_. You make me want to believe in the true love."

Edward stiffened as Caius and Petrov edged to either side of him.

"Caius," Cullen said. "How did you find me?"

Petrov laughed, "Milo is Aro's bastard son."

Caius smacked Cullen on the back. "Come, _Zbraň_. Aro has much to discuss. You've been very busy upsetting our neighbors."

As Cullen followed Caius and Petrov, he checked his watch and texted **Regards. Weather is tropical.**

His phone buzzed with the text **Stay cool. You'll see friendly faces in the six tulips.**

He texted **Affirmative** and deleted the messages **.**

Six tulips- Six o'clock was only two hours away and tulips referred to Ruzyne airport.

Cullen and Caius slid into the car across from Aro. He stared at the young man next to the head of the Šarić family.

"Seth?"

The thin young man smiled as his mentor pulled him into a hug. He looked tired, and the joy didn't quite reach his eyes, but Cullen remembered what it was like to get out of prison and have to acclimate to the world.

He turned to the Czech version of Carlisle with his white streaked, jet black hair slicked into a smooth ponytail and held out his hand.

" _Dobrý den,rád vás zase vidím ir_ ," he said. ("hello, it's good to see you again.")

"The pleasure is mine, too be sure, young Cullen," Aro said. "You have done me and mine a great service. I am here to offer what assistance I may to get you safely home." He patted Cullen's knee and sat back. "As an act of good faith between our families, I pulled strings to return a son to your family in gratitude for the elimination of the vile offspring of Marcus Drašković."

"That is most kind, sir. Carlisle will be most pleased." Cullen said as he grinned at Seth.

"I understand you picked a lovely flower from Prague's gardens. I've always been partial to the lavish love a dark haired, dark eyed beauty can offer." Cullen tensed in his seat, but Aro waved a hand dismissing his concerns. "I am only suggesting it was wise to remove your heart from the conflict. Leaves room for the head to work, yes?"

Cullen forced himself to sit back. She was safe, safe and waiting; he reminded himself.

"Yes, sir, I have arrangements at Ruzyne at eighteen hundred," Cullen said to change the subject.

Aro pushed a button. "Ruzyne, Petrov." He motioned for Caius to open the bar. "Then let us have a drink and talk."

…

Isa wadded a Horalky wrapper and licked her lips, sweet, sticky, crunchy—yum. She smiled remembering Edward's wrinkled nose until she gave him a bite. Edward—dangerous, mysterious, sweet, funny and so very lovable—Edward, she sighed. Isa feared he would only ever be a precious memory she measured the rest of her life against.

He promised, Isa reminded herself.

Feeling the need for a drink to cut the sweet, she grabbed her bag and headed toward the bar-buffet car.

…

Cullen stepped out of the SUV as the door to the private plane opened, and Jasper stepped out followed by the hulking form of Emmett. It was a relief to see them, his brothers in arms.

He just wanted to grab Bella, maybe take enough time to make good on his promise of the use of that big bed, and then get the hell outta' Dodge. If he never saw the beauty that is Prague again, he'd be just fine. He smiled to himself. After all, he had the best Prague had to offer.

"Hey man," Jasper said as he took Cullen's hand and slapped his back.

Emmett gave him a toothy grin and shook his hand. "I swear, Edward, can't leave you alone for a minute without you makin' a mess." He shook his head and tsked.

"Shut the fuck up, you gorilla," Cullen barked. "Put on your manners and come meet Aro Šarić."

Edward turned to lead them to the car only to see Caius running toward him. Jasper and Emmett reached for their guns, but Cullen waved them off.

"A train has derailed outside of Ústí nad Labem!" Caius shouted.

Cullen froze, and Jasper rested his hand on Cullen's arm.

"Where was your bird going?" Caius asked as he stopped in front of Cullen.

"Dresden," Cullen murmured.

"Hovno," ("Shit") Caius said and nodded toward the car.

Jasper watched his friend sink to his haunches before burying his face in his hands.

"What girl? Was it a malfunction or an explosion?" Jasper asked.

When Cullen looked up his red-rimmed eyes burned with the fire of the damned. Caius took a step back.

"You'll find out where on the train the explosion originated and we will find her," Cullen growled.

"Yes, we will." Aro's smooth, cultured voice sounded as his hand rested on Cullen's head. "And if she was the target we'll burn their house down, Zbraň."

… **...**

Smoke—thick, roiling smoke.

Isa had no idea which car she was in, but she knew she had to get out. She remembered the vibration under foot and then the terror of slamming against the wall of windows. Isa felt her body float to the ceiling before plummeting to the floor, impacting with something hard. She woke to smoke billowing around her.

She was bleeding.

She couldn't catch her breath. A tear rolled down her cheek leaving a clear path through the soot.

She was dying.

…

It took days to get to the truth. Aro had been true to his word and loaned men and resources. They stayed at Aro's estate working closely with Šarić men to ferret out the facts. Cullen knew Aro was using him to eliminate his chief rival, but it was a symbiotic relationship he could live with.

Carlisle had reluctantly given his nephew permission to execute the head of the Drašković family if he had solid proof of Marcus' involvement in the theft of the diamonds and the execution of the Cullen men. For Carlisle, the girl on the train had no bearing on the tentative balance of politics in the underground world. Personally, he grieved for his nephew's broken heart.

Emmett and Petrov were looking through the city for Marcus and keeping tabs on the noise and movement on the street.

Caius and Jasper travel to the wreck. They found that the explosion had originated in car seven which housed Isa's seat. Nothing of cars six, seven, and eight remained. The investigators were having trouble finding enough remains to identify the people in those cars.

With that information, Edward's hope died.

At night, Cullen went through the keyring of flash drives. Each flash drive held the dirty secrets of the rivals of the Drašković family. Two were of the Šarić family. The flash drive of the American families held the incriminating evidence Carlisle demanded. Marcus had Felix approach Sam and orchestrated the double-cross and the execution of Cullen me.

For Edward, this information was merely the means to an end—to kill the man who killed his Bella.

…

Emmett and Petrov found Marcus to be a creature of habit. They followed him daily to a closed restaurant where he ate breakfast with the heads of his crews.

This regular sit down was where Cullen and six men moved on Marcus Drašković. Emmett and two Šarić men worked to remove the guards outside the building. Jasper and two other Šarić men gathered and subdued the kitchen staff and inside guards.

When all was secure, The Gun walked into the restaurant and sat down across from a furious Marcus Drašković.

"Marcus, I'm afraid your business associates will be late. They seem to be tied up at the moment—in your kitchen," Cullen said with a chuckle.

" _Já jsem šéf._ (I am the boss) You cannot touch me, Zbraň," Marcus said as he squirmed in his seat.

Cullen cocked his head as he coolly twisted the suppressor onto his gun. "Did you think you could steal from Carlisle Cullen and live? You had your son screw us out of 2.5 million dollars, and it cost us seven men. Did you think we would let that pass? Felix paid for his transgression against us, but no, you couldn't leave it there. You had to kill her." Cullen swallowed thickly.

You took my son, _a Oko za oko_ , _ty kokote_!" (an eye for an eye, you prick) My men saw the way you looked at her, the way you protected her. Finally, we find a chink in the armor of the big, bad Zbraň." He laughed sadistically. "What fool falls for a _kurva_ (whore) you use on holiday? _Debil,"_ (idiot) Marcus spat.

"That's where you're wrong, and that's why you'll pay," The Gun said as he willed his anger to flow down his arm, through his piece, and into the bastard's skull.

Cullen brought Seth and the Drašković men into the room. He placed his gun in Seth's hand.

"Take your revenge," Cullen said and looked on with grim satisfaction as Seth emptied the clip into the body of Marcus Drašković.

Cullen executed the leaders of the Drašković family lined up beside their boss and drove off with his crew as the building blazed.

…

Cullen walked into Aro's office and placed two flash drives on his desk. It would be years before the Draškovićs became strong enough to challenge Aro Šarić. He was indebted to Edward and would be a dependable ally to the Cullens.

"Please know, if I had found that it was you who derailed the train to manipulate me into cleaning your streets, I would not have stopped until I had put a bullet in your skull—sir."

Aro leaned back in his chair, folding his hands on his desk. "I would expect nothing less from you, you beautiful boy." He sighed dramatically "If ever …"

"No."

Aro waved a hand in his direction. "But of course." He smiled sweetly. " _Šťastnou cestu_ (have a good trip), dear boy."

"Thank you, sir—for everything." Cullen bowed before exiting the room.

…

Carlisle ordered his nephew home and so a gray morning found Seth climbing the stairs into the plane ahead of Edward, leaving him to say goodbye to Jasper and Emmett.

"Find her. Bring her home to me. I'll b—bury her next to my mother," Edward rasped.

Jasper hugged his broken friend. "We'll find her, Edward. We'll find her," he whispered as Emmett's massive arms wrapped around the two men.

Edward broke from his friends and climbed the stairs without looking back.

… **..**

"This is the room."

Isa's eyelids seemed welded shut, and her head pounded as she roused to male whispers, the sound of a door closing and footsteps moving toward her.

"Shit, under all the bruising, she's a pretty little thing."

Isa felt a cold hand lift her wrist.

"Look, it's her for sure."

"I'll call The Gun."

"Yeah, go, I'll stand guard."

Isa fought to open her eyes, but her foggy mind began to drift as a chair scraped against the linoleum floor.

… **..**

Isa's stomach lurched as the private plane's wheels hit the Chicago O'Hare tarmac. She glanced across the luxury cabin to the tall, broad-shouldered blond giving her a wink as he talked on his phone.

"Jasper said I'd be safe here," she whispered to the reflection in the circular window as she chewed her lip.

A large frame dropping into the seat next to her had her turn. Emmett—such a bear of a man, where Jasper was cool and calculating—a smooth operator, Emmett, was ruthless brawn. He'd tear a threat to pieces and never bat an eye.

"You're worrying too much," Emmett said. He moved to pat her knee so neatly crossed over her other shapely leg, but the clearing of a throat across the cabin stopped his hand midair. She looked back to the gray landscape running past her window.

The plane taxied into a hangar, and as the massive doors closed behind them, Jasper and Emmett pulled guns from hidden places in the baggage. As they loaded and cocked the weapons, Isa sighed.

"Come on," Emmett said as he pulled her battered bag from the overhead compartment.

He led her to the door and positioned her between himself and Jasper.

As they descended the steps, Isa pulled the collar of her coat snug. The hangar was empty save for two black SUVs with three suits positioned around them. When she hit the bottom step, the back door of one vehicle opened, and Edward unfolded himself.

With a gasp, she darted around Jasper as Emmett called her name and threw herself into Edward's open arms.

Isa sobbed as he held her tight against his chest. "You're alive, my God, you're alive," he rasped against her hair.

Hands and lips roamed, as the lovers sought the reassuring truth that they were whole, safe—together.

In time, they calmed enough for Edward to push her gently back. His hands smoothed her tear soaked hair from her blotchy face. When her red-rimmed eyes met his, he smiled and gave her a sweet peck.

"I missed you," she whispered and hiccoughed.

He ran his knuckle along her cheek, and his eyes roamed her face taking in every minute change of the weeks apart, savoring her presence.

A frown marred his visage. "You scared me, baby," he growled, and she nodded lowering her eyes.

He slid his knuckle under her chin and lifted her eyes back to his. "Show me," he said with a nod to her neck.

She hesitated, and he watched a flush spread over her neck. He smiled at the sight and waited as she unbuttoned her jacket and shirt collars. She moved her thick mane to her left shoulder and with her neck exposed, she waited.

He scanned the long angry scar running the side of her neck up into her hairline, the curling fuzz where her hair was growing back, and the mask of shame on her face.

His eyes softened as he leaned forward and tenderly kissed along the jagged scar before moving her hair to cover her.

"You are beautiful, baby." He swallowed thickly and added, "Thank you for fighting to get back to me."

Relief washed over her, and she sank into him, wrapping her arms around his waist. He wrapped her snug and buried his face in her hair.

He gave her a reassuring squeeze. "We have decisions to make, love."

She nodded against his collar and took a deep breath before stepping back. He kept his arms loosely wrapped around her and watched her square her narrow shoulders and meet his eye.

He smiled at her bravery and cleared his throat. "I can't express what it means to see you safe and whole. I need you to stay that way, baby."

Isa began to speak, but he stopped her. "There are two ways I see to meet that goal. The path we take is up to you."

His decisive tone served to steel her resolve.

She licked her lips. "Tell me the two options."

He nodded and leaned against the SUV, drawing her between his legs.

She ran her hand inside his coat and over his chest, feeling him, reassuring herself, before meeting his eyes again. She took a deep breath and nodded.

"The first option, you get back on that plane, and we move you to a secure location where you can rebuild your life under a new identity."

"Like witness protection?" He would have smiled at her cute frown if his heart wasn't in the agonizing process of dying.

"Yes, just like witness protection. It would be a new life with a clean slate. You could reinvent yourself with no need to look over your shoulder ever again."

Her eyes searched his. "And you'd come with me?" she asked weakly, knowing the answer.

"No baby, I'd say goodbye here, and I'd let you go." He tried to keep his face neutral as his heart stilled with a painful thud.

She pressed her lips into a thin line. "Tell me the second option, Edward—now!" He started and nodded, taking a deep breath. "The second option would be for you to come under my protection," he said. With his eyes boring into hers, he added, "—for life."

She lifted her eyebrows challenging him to continue.

"We would marry, and my name would protect you. You would belong to me, and no one would touch a hair on your head without swift and severe retribution."

He focused on her pulse racing in the vein along her slender neck.

"Marry," she whispered, "when?"

He tentatively tucked a silken strand behind her ear before cupping her hopeful face. "Now, baby—before we leave this hangar."

A smile lit her face. "Option two, please," she said with a bounce.

His heart bounded and raced as he tried to control himself.

"Isa," he warned, "you would not be able to leave me—ever. Not only would you break me, baby, but the family would never tolerate desertion."

She slid her arms inside his coat, wrapping them around his torso. She ran her nose inside his collar before kissing behind his ear and breathing, "Please—please—please let me choose option two, Edward—please."

He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his lips to her temple. "You're sure?"

She nodded and kissed his neck. He gave her a squeeze and leaned back to read her. He searched her face with his hawk-like eyes, and she stood still as a mouse. When a smile washed across his face, she released the breath she was holding.

He kissed the saint gracing her wrist as his heated gaze held her spellbound before he stepped away with a loud clap.

"Okay, let's do this!" he yelled bringing the cavernous room echoing to life.

As men swarmed the large room, the far side door of the SUV opened. A tall, debonair man who resembled Edward walked toward them. His shoulder length, grayish blond hair, and his old world charm gave him an iron virility that belied his years.

He pulled Edward into a backslapping embrace, and Isa grinned as Edward's neck flushed.

He pulled back and drew her to his side. "Bella, baby, this is my uncle, Carlisle Cullen. Carlisle this is Ms. Isabella Swan, Isa."

Carlisle surprised her by drawing her into a hug. "You have bled for our family." He grabbed Edward by the nape before patting his cheek affectionately. "—To protect one we value. I see that you give him a happiness my wife has given me."

Carlisle continued as Edward drew her back to his side. "My wife Esme is excited to meet you. I was hard pressed to keep her from this meeting." He took her hand. "My lovely wife will be a friend, a help to you as you maneuver in this new life you are entering."

"Thank you, sir. I look forward to meeting her."

Hammering in the far corner drew their attention to the activity of the room. The men had erected a wedding arbor made of floral vines wrapped around willow branches, and a priest had materialized to the side of the commotion.

"Oh, my …" Isa gasped.

A rich, smooth voice came from behind her, "I've heard that one before, Bella-mine."

She rammed her elbow backward and smiled as he laughed.

Isa faced him. "Was I such a foregone conclusion?"

He wrapped his arms around her. "No, but when Emmett called to tell me they had found you, I began to act on my hopes."

She tiptoed and gave him a tender kiss as the stewardess from the plane approached. "Excuse me, sir. May I borrow your fiancé for a moment?" she asked with a smile.

Edward kissed Isa's head and released her. The stewardess led her behind a screen where a gauzy, white dress hung over a vanity.

"We don't have much time, but Mr. Cullen wanted your moment to be special."

…

When Isa reemerged, Pachelbel's Canon in D was echoing from hidden speakers. All eyes turned to her as she walked toward Edward Cullen in a midnight blue tux. He was gorgeous and happy, and she couldn't help but rush to him.

"Hi," she said shyly as she took the arm he offered.

"Hi," he said as he bent to steal a glossy kiss.

Isa looked around the room at her wedding party. Save for Trina, the stewardess, Isa was a lone female in a sea of men. Her ushers carried semi-automatic weapons and guarded the doors. She looked at Emmett as he snapped away. Her photographer's holstered gun was bigger than his camera.

She felt a pang that 'the bride's side' was empty, but she looked at Carlisle and the promised friendship of Esme and felt hope. More than anything, she was sure about the man next to her. She knew everything else would sort itself out as it came.

That was life.

She looked into Edward's beautiful, emerald eyes. "I love you," she said as she squeezed his hand.

He closed his eyes absorbing the words. When he opened them, the intensity of his gaze took her breath away.

"I love you, too, Bella-mine."

She gave him a cheeky grin. "Good."

With the clearing of the priest's throat, the ceremony began.

Heady words floated around the couple, and they took heed of each one, vowing to make them important in their life together.

He slid a brilliant platinum ring onto her finger. "It's my cut for the job we did." He said as his thumb ran over the flawless diamond.

She ran her knuckles along his cheek, knowing the sacrifices made to bring this ring to her hand. "Thank you," she whispered.

A lingering kiss to seal the marriage and signatures on dotted lines finished out the moment.

As the men began breaking down the makeshift chapel, and Edward talked with Carlisle, she stood in the center of the room admiring the diamond's sparkle as she flexed her fingers under the florescent light.

"You can go change, baby. Then we'll head home," Edward said as he reclaimed her, wrapping his arm around her waist.

She looked down at her delicate, tea length dress. "Can I wear it a little bit longer?"

He smiled as he pulled her into his arms. "For a bit longer, but I'm going to keep my word," he said as he kissed along her neck.

"What word?"

"I promised you a night in a big, luxurious bed. Tonight, Mrs. Cullen, I'm going to make good on that promise."

She squealed as he swung her up into his arms and brought her to the car that would carry her into her new life, a do-over of their own making.

 **A/N: Please leave the writer encouragement in the form of a review and a thank you for entering our contest.**


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